


Lost and Found

by acercrea



Category: Football RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Lost in Milan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 08:30:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3930016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acercrea/pseuds/acercrea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabby just moved to Milan and keeps getting lost in the city. Who finds her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Huge thank you to firetruckyeah here on AO3 and the Tumblr anon who helped me with the Italian. I owe you both, any mistakes left are either my fault or intentional.  
> Disclaimer: this is just for fun, I don’t own anything you recognize.

The first time I met him I was completely lost. In fact the first 3 times I met Mattia I was lost to some degree, which is not something I am entirely proud of. But we should start at the beginning.

“Do you have your phone?” my roommate Drea asked me as I was putting on my jacket to leave the flat.

“Of course I do,” I sighed as I patted my pocket surreptitiously to make sure I did have it after all. I had been living in Milan for 3 weeks, but my roommate still did not let me leave the house without reminding me that I had gotten so lost on my first night here that I had to be driven home by la polizia.

“Try to stick to borough 7, yeah?” Drea asked, not even bothering to look up from her magazine.

“Calm down, I am just going to get gelato,” I replied as I opened the door.

“Don’t stay out too late sweetie; it is a school night after all,” she teased.

“Sure thing, mother,” I shouted back, my voice dripping with sarcasm as the door shut behind me.

The sun was just setting as I made my way onto the streets of Milan. I was only going to be in Milan for a year and I had made it my mission to find the best gelato this city had to offer, one shop at a time. So far I had found a very good shop just around the corner from my building, but one of the locals in my art history class had told me that there was a much better shop about 12 blocks away, close to San Siro, so that was where I was heading.

Armed with the hand written map my classmate had made me I went off toward the stadium. I found the shop no problem and decided to walk to the park next to the stadium while I was eating it.

By the time I had finished the sun had set completely and night had fallen around me. After a block I realized that I didn’t really know where I was. The streets in Milan, like in most of Italy, were built a long time ago for smaller vehicles and packed tightly together with little rhyme or reason. Most streets looked the similar during the day, but at night turned into a confusing labyrinth. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and discovered to my dismay that I had no internet connection and my navigation app was useless.

I was just about to panic when I heard a pleasant male voice behind me say, “Mi scusi, Singorina. Ti sei persa?”

“Um, what?” I asked, trying to decide if I should trust this random person or flee.

“Mi dispiace, I did not realize that you are americana. Are you lost, Miss?” he asked, his face hidden beneath a baseball cap.

“Unfortunately, yes, I think so. Can you tell me how to get back to the University from here?” I asked.

“Si, I know the way. I can walk you, if you do not mind,” he offered.

“As much as my better judgement says no, I don’t think I have a choice, so yes, if you don’t mind, I don’t mind,” I agreed.

“So what brings you to San Siro? It is a very long way from the Uni,” he commented as we walked.

“I have decided that while I am here in Milan I am going to find the best gelato that the city has to offer and a classmate told me about a shop near the stadium, so I went to find it. I found it fine, and had my dessert in the park I saw when I was leaving the match last weekend, but I got lost after that. I wish I could say that this was the first time, but I unfortunately I can’t. My roommate is never going to let me live this down,” I groaned.

“Do you support Milan?” he asked with surprise and interest.

“Yes, is that odd?” I asked.

“Si, I have met many belle americane, but not many of them watch football at all, and fewer support Serie A teams. It is, how do you say? Unexpected,” he chuckled.

“Good unexpected or bad unexpected?” I asked as the university appeared ahead of us.

“Very, very good. I am guessing you can find your way from here?” he asked.

“Si, I know where I am now. Grazie mille, um…” I trailed off, realizing we hadn’t exchanged names.

“Mi chiamo Mattia,” he replied.

“Grazie mille, Mattia. I am Gabby,” I told him, holding out my hand, which he shook.

“Gabby?” he asked as though he was unsure of the name.

“Yeah, it is short for Gabriella,” I answered.

“Bella notte, Gabriella. The beautiful American who loves gelato and supports Milan,” he said as he turned back the way we had just come.

I was suddenly hit with a realization, and called out, “Mattia!” to his retreating form.

“Si Gabriella?” he asked, turning back around.

“Give them hell tomorrow,” I requested.

“I thought for a moment you did not recognize me. For you I will do my best, bella Gabriella,” he answered before turning the corner and out of sight.

“You are happy. Gelato search went well, then?” Drea asked when I arrived back at my room.

“Yeah, it did,” I answered with a smile and proceeded to get ready for bed.

I saw him next three weeks later, after a match. I decided to splurge and get a match day scarf, but Drea had to pee, so we split up and made plans to meet up just inside the entrance we had come through to get into the stadium. I somehow got turned around and somehow found myself near the locker rooms and was stopped by a very angry looking security guard.

He said something in rapid Italian that I didn’t catch, so I was forced to say, “Mi dispiace, non capisco.”

“You are not allowed to be here, signorina. You have to go back the way you came,” he repeated in heavily accented English.

“I’m sorry, I got turned around. I am looking for Gate C, can you point me in the right direction?” I asked.

Before he could reply a voice called out, “Gabriella, is that you? What are you doing down here?”

The security guard responded for me in more rapid Italian, after which Mattia said to me, “Lost again, Gabriella? You are lucky I keep finding you. I can walk you to Gate C. It is not so far from where I am going.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Si, non è un problema. Arrivederci, Mario,” Mattia told the security guard.

We walked in silence for a moment before Mattia spoke, “So if I did not know better, I would say that you get lost on purpose, hoping that I find you, Gabriella.”

“No, I am not getting lost on purpose. It is more that I am unaccustomed to being lost. Back home I grew up in the same area my whole life, I know Long Island like the back of my hand. I know all of the back alleys and shortcuts. I have never had to pay attention to my surroundings before because they were all the same things I grew up with. It is unusual for me to not know where I am,” I responded.

“There you are, Gabby. I was just about to send out a search party, but I see you already found one. Hi, I am Drea,” she interrupted our conversation.

“Mattia,” he responded, shaking the hand she was holding out to him.

“Very nice to meet you, Mattia,” Drea flirted.

“Well, it seems you are no longer lost, bella Gabriella. Maybe I will be lucky enough to find you a third time. It was nice to meet you Drea, arrivederci,” Mattia said before continuing on through the door.

“Um, have you been holding out on me or what?” Drea asked as soon as we were alone.

“Did I not mention that Mattia walked me home after I got lost one night?” I asked trying to avoid her gaze.

“No, you didn’t. You also neglected to mention that he flirted with you,” Drea replied.

“He did not flirt with me,” I protested.

“He called you beautiful, Gabby. That is flirting,” Drea pointed out.

“He is Italian, they always say things like that,” I countered.

“He didn’t call me beautiful. Whatever, I am just a little jealous. If you become a wag, you have to hook me up with one of his teammates, deal?” she asked.

The entire walk home was basically like that, with Drea trying to convince me that Mattia liked me and me protesting.

Two weeks after the match I left the house deciding that I was going to spend the day exploring Milan, going wherever my feet took me, and if I got lost then so be it. It was sometimes good to get lost.

I was wandering around a farmers market a few hours later when I heard a voice behind me say, “You are very far from home, Gabriella. Please tell me you are not lost again?”

“Yes I am, but lost on purpose this time. Buon pomeriggio, Mattia,” I greeted.

“Hello, bella Gabriella. How exactly does one get lost on purpose?” he asked me as we walked from stall to stall.

“Well, you set out in a random direction and you keep going until you find something worth seeing. When I was in high school my friend Natalie and I used to take the train into the big city and pick a random subway stop to get out at and just see what we found there. It was usually something amazing, but I have been too afraid until today to try it here. Milan hasn’t been as kind to me as New York was,” I replied.

“Surely after a city as big as New York, Milan doesn’t seem that daunting. After all the city seems to be trying her hardest to bring us together, is that such a bad thing?” he questioned.

“No, I suppose not,” I conceded with a smile as he picked up a flower from a nearby stand and placed it behind my ear.

After paying the flower vendor he turned back to me. “So,” he started, leaning in close. “Do you trust me?”

I pretended to mull it over for a minute before responding, “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good, I have something I want to show you then,” he informed me, holding his hand out to me with a flourish.

We walked for a while, hand in hand through the city, past houses and shops, restaurants and bakeries, parks and gelato stands, always seeming to go up. As we walked we talked about everything from his football to my studies, our families, friends, hopes, dreams, and childhoods.

By the time we reached a long set of steps that seemed to grow out of the earth between 2 houses it felt like there was nothing about him that I didn’t know or that he didn’t know about me. So this time when he turned to me 5 steps from the top and asked me, “Do you trust me, bella?” I answered yes without hesitation.

“Good. Close your eyes,” he requested.

I complied and felt his hands fold over my closed eyes and he started to gently lead me forward, careful on the steps and slowly beyond that. When we stopped I could feel a gentle breeze on my face and a thrill of anticipation curled up in my stomach. “Ok, bella Gabriella, open your eyes,” he requested as he removed his hands.

Before me was laid the entire city of Milan. I could see my Uni and the stadium from where we stood, both closer than I would have thought them to be, considering how far it felt like we had wandered. In the early evening sun Milan seemed peaceful and magical at the same time. Mattia had taken me to a special place and taken my breath away. “Mattia, it is incredible,” I told him.

“You mentioned earlier that Milan has not been as kind to you as she could have been. So I wanted to show you just how nice she can be if you know where to look,” he shrugged.

“Well, I take it all back, she is beautiful,” I responded.

“Yes, she is,” he spoke, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Mattia?” I asked.

“Si Gabriella?” he asked.

“Why me? There are hundreds of women, thousands even, who would kill to be up here with you right now. Why did you pick me?” I questioned.

“Because you didn’t tell anyone that you had met me. And you treat me like I am just another guy off the street. There is no pressure to be a football star, you let me just be Mattia,” he responded.

“How do you know I didn’t tell anyone about meeting you?” I asked.

“Your roommate had no idea that you had met me, I could see it in her eyes when I walked up. She was surprised to see me, and even more surprised to see you at ease with me. It has been a while since I felt I could trust someone and I feel I can trust you, Gabriella,” he answered.

“But you could date a supermodel, I can’t compete with that,” I argued.

“Your beauty is like Milan’s. Just because you can’t always see it from where you are standing does not mean it is gone. True beauty is rare, and you are too close to see it. But I can see it for both of us,” he replied, leaning in to kiss me.

It was a gentle, feather light brushing of lips, that I would have mistaken for tentativeness were it not for the confident way his hand was resting on the back of my neck, just teasing my hairline. The kiss built slowly, languidly, his lips caressing my own and making me forget all of my insecurities as I lost myself in him.

I rested my forehead to his a moment later and sighed happily, “I am so happy I got lost.”

“Not has happy as I am to have found you,” he chuckled, leaning forward to press his lips to my once more.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I hope you liked it, if you did leave me kudos, and if you really liked it or want to request a fic of your own just leave me a comment.


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